


the way I stole your heart

by orphan_account



Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Coming Out, Get Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:16:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hikaru wakes to the comfortable warmth of another body curled around his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the way I stole your heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lacygrey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacygrey/gifts).



> When I started to write this, I only knew I wanted something smooth and easy and yet difficult and bumpy, but not terribly angsty, in that way; and I've always wanted to write Akira coming out to his parents, so here it is.
> 
> For the amazing lacygrey, and help_japan, you're very generous and gorgeous. Thank you!

Hikaru wakes to the comfortable warmth of another body curled around his own. There is hair in his face that isn't his own, and his fingers are resting lightly on a jutted-out hip, skin smooth and new under his fingertips. He blinks a few times and knows immediately where he is, who he's with. He's stood over Akira's shape so often, watching a game of Go over his shoulder; he knows the scent like few others.

He shifts, gently disentangling their limbs, and breathes easier when Akira doesn't wake, just wriggles and stills. They're both naked under the thin blankets, and Hikaru can feel stickiness on his thighs, a memory of the past night, of Akira's legs between his own, their hips moving together, gasps and little moans and deep, wet kisses.

Akira's room is bare, hardly furnished aside from the desk, a second futon laid out on the floor a few steps away that Hikaru didn't use, opting to half-lie on Akira's, half on the hard floor (what doesn't one do for love). Akira's computer sends a dim glow from the screen where they forgot to turn it off last night, watching Go play out on the internet.

Hikaru slowly kneels, stretching. A yawn pops his jaw wide, the blanket pooled around his hips. He slept remarkably well, considering he didn't sleep in his own bed.

It's past nine am already, which means Akira missed his morning class. Hikaru steals another glance down at his companion. He'll be mad for a few minutes, later. Right now, Akira's expression is soft, his mouth pliant, reddish, dry where it is wet last night, covered by Hikaru's kisses. His eyelashes are long and dark, like a girl's. There's a heated glow in the pit of Hikaru's belly when his gaze brushes Akira's neck and traces down his chest and his arm to where the blanket is barely keeping him decent. He wants to touch again, wants to slip his hand below the material and take him in his hand - in his mouth, like he hadn't done last night, everything too quick and frenzied and desperate.

Hikaru doesn't have a sense of self-preservation on his best days, but he knows molesting your best friend while he sleeps is the kind of thing that can get you arrested real quick, so instead of closing the minimal space between them, he hops to his feet. He's pulling up his underwear past his knees when Akira moves and gives a little murmur, opens his eyes, asleep one second, awake the next. When he catches sight of Hikaru, those same eyes widen comically. Then he flushes and slaps his palms over his eyes, gasping. It's more than a little funny. Hikaru tries not to laugh loudly, but the hiccup gives him away.

"Stop laughing at me," Akira complains from between his fingers; then he takes them down to pull the sheets _up_.

Hikaru snorts at the attempt at dignity. He finds his t-shirt under the chair. "No use doing that," he grins and slips it over his head. "It's not like you've got anyhing I haven't seen already."

Akira's face, if at all possible, turns a brighter red. "Did we. Oh Christ, we - last night, we did. Stuff?" His voice goes up into soprano registers with the last word.

Hikaru's pants are hanging over the armrest of the chair. It's at that point Hikaru realizes that he can't just pull them on since he's still sticky in places; the dried sweat is not comfortable either. He looks over at Akira. "Yeah," he says easily. "Stuff. Like sex." He's not even sure handjobs count as sex anymore these days, but he's all of nineteen, he'll take what he can get. It's not like it's a big deal either way.

But then a glance at Akira makes him reassess that judgement. Akira is still hiding under the blanket, almost like he's trying to make himself invisible. He's looking very shy, which is not like Akira at all. Cool, distant, removed, that's the emotional spectrum Akira excels at. Shy and embarrassed is new.

And so the thing is, Hikaru's not the waiting type. He breezes past anyone who doesn't keep up with him, and once he knows what he wants, he'll work hard to get it. When he figured out he wanted boys, a few years back, that he liked looking at them, and touching them, and being held by them, liked their flat chests and hard abs and lean thighs - he didn't wait for Akira to catch on. He found one, and then another, and apparently, who knew, there were quite a few willing boys in Tokyo (and Seoul, and Beijing) who didn't mind stolen kisses in waiting rooms and muffled blowjobs on hotel room beds.

But now they're here, in Akira's house, and last night Akira had seemed on board with everything. He hadn't seemed out of it, or even too tipsy from the rice wine they'd sneaked into the room past Akira's mother. Hikaru can see the half-empty bottle next to the computer, so it's not even like they got rangingly, stupidly drunk. He takes a few more seconds before he squeezes his pants in his grip hard and goes to kneel down next to Akira on the futon.

"So... hey," he says and tries a smile.

Akira lowers the blanket, catching Hikaru's gaze. "Hey," he replies softly, with none of the usual eyerolling bite he has whenever Hikaru's being a dumbass.

Hikaru bites his lip. "You okay?"

Akira nods hesitantly.

"Not permanently scarred? Not completely and utterly overwhelmed by my incredible skills between the sheets?"

"Oh, shut up," Akira says, looking down. His twitching lower lip betrays his starting smile.

"Seriously, though," Hikaru says, slowly turning serious again. "Are we okay? Last night doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to."

Akira's lips thin at that, his eyes darken. "Is that what you want?" he asks quickly. His fingers have tightened on the edge of the blanket, knuckles turning white.

Hikaru shakes his head. "And who'm I kidding anyway, right?" he sighs, shoulders moving up and down in an easy roll. "We - the two of us. It'll mean _something_ , whatever we say." He'd thought he'd lost the ability to be embarrassed back when Akari pantsed him in front of their entire class for accidentally hitting her in the face with his baseball, but the sensation washing over him cannot be interpreted as anything else. "It's just that I've never really had a boyfriend before."

"Doesn't seem to have hurt your ability to acquire some 'skills'," Akira says, letting the sheets fall finally, if just in order to make sarcastic air quotes with his fingers. Hikaru almost laughs. Well, if that's what it takes to revert him back to his familiar, confrontational self. "I'm feeling like I should be wearing a suit for this. Whatever _this_ is."

Hikaru gives him a mischievous look. "Taking off the damn thing is a giant pain in the ass. Can't you just wear tees and shorts, like normal teenagers?"

Akira's eyebrows go up. "It's easier to get taken seriously this way."

"The other players will take you seriously even if you show wearing a leopard-print bikini and an ermine around your neck," Hikaru grins. "I'm the only one you should be trying to impress, and let me tell you, suits are not it."

"You want me to come naked next time?" Akira snaps. His face flames when he realizes what he's just said.

Hikaru smirks. "Now that would be cheating," he says. "Distraction tactics are prohibited as per rulebook." And he doesn't realize he's leaning in so close until he can suddenly count Akira's eyelashes again, close enough so that he can just reach out, a few inches, and place his hands on Akira's chest to push him backwards onto the futon, to use a few other distraction tactics he's picked up along the way.

Akira is leaning up as well, chin lifted slightly. But when Hikaru hesitates, he quickly pulls back, looking down at his lap. "We should - it's late," he settles. "Late for - I'm sure there's breakfast in the kitchen, and I'm late for my class, and there's the game in the afternoon that we wanted to see. Hikaru."

Hikaru drops his gaze to Akira's lips just for a second (he should have just kissed him right now, just gone for it, honestly) before he moves it back up to meeet his eyes. "Yeah?"

Akira swallows. "This means we're boyfriends now, right?"

Hikaru blinks. His heart is making giant butterfly leaps in his chest, and it feels a little like winning at Go, like figuring out that one perfect move, like sitting opposite Akira, making everything _fit_.

"If you want," he says, and then, "Yeah. Yes."

 

\- - - - -

 

Breakfast is awkward. They sit opposite one another drinking tea from little bowls while Akira's mother moves around, preparing food for their bento boxes. Hikaru tries curling his foot around Akira's ankle once, and is immediately shut down when Akira kicks him and glares.

"You boys got up pretty late," Akira's mom chastises them gently when Hikaru complains about having to call his parents to let them know he's alive. They both flush guiltily, especially when she gives them curious looks and says, "You didn't stay up too late watching the computer, did you?"

"No, mother," Akira agrees. "We turned it off right after the game was over." He doesn't mention what went on afterwards, but it hangs between them like a rain cloud waiting to happen.

"Are you coming home with Akira for dinner after your visit at the Institute, Shindou-kun?"

Hikaru glances at Akira, who is still glaring at his tea, and sighs. "I think I'd better go home. I'm supposed to visit my grandfather this evening anyway."

"That's kind of you." She smiles at him. "Well, I've said it before but I'll say it again, feel free to stay any time."

"Thank you," Hikaru replies, smiling back at her, genuine warmth coloring his voice. "I'll see if I can let Akira win a game or two soon so that he won't stop inviting me. It would be a pity to never taste your wonderful cooking again."

"Hey," Akira protests. "What is that supposed to mean, let me win?", while his mom laughs into her palm, clearly amused.

Hikaru watches her and Akira bicker on good-naturedly about Akira's Go focus that he has so obviously inherited from his father and wonders how she would react if she knew; if she'd grow cooler and if she'd throw him out for turning her son gay; or if she'd be fine with it, accepting even, and a little happy for Akira maybe.

 

\- - - - -

 

They go to the Institute and watch a new kid who's just turned Pro play her first game against a seven dan of a solid, smooth Go quality. The girl's good but too aggressive, too impatient, too quick to attack when presented with an opportunity. Akira's expression is a cross between disdain and curiosity, and it reminds Hikaru of how he used to look at Hikaru's boards. Hikaru can already see she'll get far if she learns to read deeper. Maybe she'll find her match soon. Maybe she already has and is learning.

Afterwards, they go to the Go salon where they first met, where they always meet now, every second afternoon when they're not spending the day together, and on some other days as well. They sit down opposite each other and replay the game and Hikaru plays her role until he shifts a few stones to win.

It drives Akira crazy when Hikaru wins; it still does, even though he fights so hard not to show it. There used to be a time, just a few years ago, when Akira was still out of Hikaru's reach, still winning every single game; and then, maybe three years ago, maybe around the same time Hikaru started discovering boys, he won for the first time, for real, with standard tournament komi, on his very own. Akira had risen from his kneeling position back then, face stony, eyes watering just barely, and thanked Hikaru for the game before taking off, back straight as a ramrod. Hikaru doesn't know why it hurts Akira so much, but he also knows that no consolation will ever be welcome, that this is a pain Akira will have to come to terms with on his own; so he never says anything and pretends like Akira can take a lost game with the same easygoing smile as he himself can.

He should be going home now, he knows, leave Akira to ponder the board for an hour or two more, like he always does when he loses. But that's the point, isn't it, he _always_ does it; and last night, Akira apparently decided that he doesn't want to do it like he always does. Not anymore.

"C'mon," Hikaru says, and tugs Akira's sleeve until he can't help but get off his chair and follow.

"Where are we going?" Akira mutters, cranky. "I wasn't done with that board, I was going to see where I went wrong so I don't make the same mistake again -"

"I know, but no one will touch that board until you give permission, so it'll be there tomorrow if you're still mental enough to want to come in tomorrow to analyze it," Hikaru tells him, poking his forehead with his finger. He slips Ichikawa-san a few bills to cover the fee, even though she always protests, and then, once they're outside, takes Akira's hand in his own.

Akira stares at him like he's gone mad.

"What?" Hikaru asks.

"You're holding my hand."

"Yeah. Because you're my boyfriend, remember?" Akira tugs, trying to get his hand back, but Hikaru holds on. "Are you ashamed to be seen with me?" he asks, aiming for hurt but ending up smiling at the expression on Akira's face. He looks like he's battling it out with a very persistent bee.

"Of course I'm ashamed to be seen with you," Akira tells him, giving up on getting his hand back with a sigh. "Your hair dye is appalling, you're wearing a sweater vest - a sweater vest! What is this, I did that when I is thirteen and it looked horrible then, and you gave me hell for it until I saw the error of my ways. But now you're wearing one?"

Hikaru grins. "When I wear it, it has ironic appeal. It's fashionable."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. And now stop bitching about everything or I'm not going to buy you a sundae. Which you should be grateful for, because I'm already running late. And you lost, you should be buying. See what a great boyfriend I am?"

Akira gives him an unimpressed stare.

"Right. Nothing but my skills in bed can move you anymore," Hikaru sighs dramatically. "Maybe I should invest in a pair of handcuffs."

"What? No! What, what are you talking about?" Akira yelps, once again flushing to the roots of his hair, but at least he isn't being sulky anymore, which is something.

 

\- - - - -

 

Hikaru has an important game a few days later, so he spends the days studying his opponent's moves. His cell phone rings twice in that time; Akari calls him to ask if wants to spend the day walking around campus meeting her friends (he never says yes, but she never learns, so they always settle on going for ice cream and movies instead); Waya calls to say that he's going to be hanging out in Go salons downtown with Isumi later, for which Hikaru joins them, because it's always good practice, no matter that they're far out of any hobby players' league at this point.

Akira doesn't call, which is strange. It's only after the game, which Hikaru wins by half a komi, badly played, that he realizes Akira is waiting for him outside of the hall, hands in his pants pockets, suit jacket perfectly lining his slim frame. He looks good in its pale grey, a vast improvement over those strange colors he'd worn as a teenager. It matches his eyes and hair color, makes him look mature, an air of professionalism around him. Hikaru wonders for a moment if Akira doesn't have a point, if his opponents might stop treating him like a kid if he stopped it with the funny t-shirts and skinny jeans and got himself adult clothes. Then today's losing candidate passes him in the hallway, wearing a suit, greyish hair reflecting the setting sun through the windows, and he realizes that he doesn't give a fuck. He can wear whatever he wants, as long as he's better than everyone else.

"What the hell was that?" Akira demands then, pointing his finger at Hikaru's face.

And that reminds him that today, he hasn't exactly played his best. He winces. "What?" he says loudly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I won, didn't I?" And he really hopes Sai isn't listening in on this from heaven or wherever he's gone to after he's disappeared.

Akira's cheeks puff up. "Excuse me? That was not a win, that was a disgrace. Your whole pattern looked like you were making origami, not playing professional Go!"

"Yeah, fine, I was a little distracted. So what, it happens. Next time, I'll play better." Hikaru turns around on his heel and stalks towards the exit. He hopes Akira won't prod at that, and to make sure he doesn't, he gives him a quick sideways glance and asks, "So what have you been doing the past days?"

"Playing Go," Akira replies, looking at him like he is an idiot.

"Besides the obvious," Hikaru says with an eyeroll.

Akira shrugs. "My mother needed me to accompany her to one of her fundraising things. That was pretty boring. I was invited to hold an afternoon session for a promising new Insei, which took longer than expected."

Hikaru frowns. There is something off in Akira's tone of voice, but he can't place what it is. "Why's that?" he asks slowly, stopping on the stairs outside the building where they've wandered on their way home. "He any good?"

"She," Akira says. "She was very good, yes. She - uh. She insisted I stay for dinner. So I had to."

Hikaru wonders for a moment why Akira's telling him all that, before he suddenly gets it. His eyebrows go up. "Does that happen often?" he asks, keeping his voice bland even though there's a strange feeling like pressure in his chest that makes him want to yell. "Those dinner invitations. In general?"

"No. Well. Sometimes. Not - I mean, there aren't that many girls who play Go on that level, so not from that side of things, but sometimes my mother makes me go to dinner. With people. Girls." Akira looks very uncomfortable. "I did not mean to bring this up here. I can see it upsets you."

"It upsets me?" Hikaru takes a calming breath. It doesn't work. "Of course it upsets me, you were the one who asked if I was your boyfriend now! People with boyfriends don't usually go on dates with other people!"

"It's not like I wanted to!" Akira protests. "She was very nice, but."

"But what?"

"But - I mean. I have you." Akira is looking him in the eyes, and it seems to take him quite a lot of courage because his spine looks like someone rammed a broom up there, his shoulders pulled back, defensive all over.

Hikaru appreciates it for what it means, he really does, so he reaches out and touches Akira's cheek. Akira breathes out, lowering his chin, looking relieved. Then Hikaru says, "I still think you should tell your mother about us. Because I don't want you to go to dinner with other people anymore," and the relieved look vanishes from Akira's face very quickly after that.

 

\- - - - -

 

Telling Akira's mom leads to Akira demanding Hikaru tells _his_ mom first, which is really the least of Hikaru's problems. Seeing as how Hikaru's parents have known he's gay for over a year now, so telling his mother he has a boyfriend won't come as a huge shock.

"Actually, she'll be insufferable finding out it's you," Hikaru tells Akira while they're on the train heading for Hikaru's home. It's almost empty, which is good because he has a feeling Akira wouldn't talk about this in public if he felt like he could be overheard. "The first thing she said when I told her I liked boys was, 'Oh, it's that sweet boy, Akira-chan! I knew you liked him more than was normal!' and I protested it at the time, of course, but she wasn't wrong."

Akira blinks. "So wait. You've liked me for over a year?"

"Something like that," Hikaru says smoothly. "Anyway, she'll be thrilled."

"She wasn't bothered at all about you not liking girls?" Akira asks, staring at his hands.

Hikaru snorts. "When I was twelve, I found a box of her manga while looking for a dictionary in her study. There were doujinshi. Graphic ones. Yaoi. I don't think it's a wonder I turned gay, now that I think about it. It must have been the trauma."

Akira looks at him in horror.

"She was very disappointed about not having any grandchildren until I told her there were ways for people like me to have kids anyway, after which she made me promise to have at least two. I think she's already asked Akari to be the mother of my future children. She's horrible, really. Maybe this is not such a good idea after all."

"She sounds lovely," Akira says softly. He looks worried.

Hikaru looks around the train, but the two kids up front are playing video games and the few adults are facing forward, so he slips into the seat next to Akira, pressing close. He knows Akira hates this kind of thing, being affectionate in public, but this is different, he hopes, or maybe just this once, Akira won't push him away. He puts one arm around him, leaning his face into Akira's neck, mouth close to his ear. "Your mom is lovely too," he whispers. "She won't be horrible."

Akira nods, but doesn't say anything either way.

Hikaru pulls off, not before pressing a quick kiss to Akira's lips. That, it seems, is too much though, because Akira gives him a scowl and pushes him away.

They spend the rest of the ride in silence.

 

\- - - - -

 

Akira is jittery the whole evening, on edge during dinner even though Hikaru's mother is a calm and steady presence instead of the mom-attack Hikaru expected. She only hugs Akira once, really quickly, when Hikaru tells her they're boyfriends now. Apparently, she can read Akira better than Hikaru thought she could. She never ceases to amaze him, really.

Later, while they're sitting in front of the TV, huddled close on the couch, Akira says, "Those dinners aren't really so bad, you know? And it's not like anything happens but a little talk and food. The most touching we do is a handshake -"

"Akira," Hikaru silences him, and then pats his knee and Akira seems to realize it's not about any of that because he falls silent again. Hikaru's parents have already gone up to their room to sleep at that point.

"Your parents are great," Akira says, and hides his face in Hikaru's neck. "Even your father doesn't mind. I just don't think - we've only been doing this for a little while. Maybe we could wait till we live together. In an apartment."

"They're not going to kick you out," Hikaru tells him patiently.

Akira sits up at that, and moves away from Hikaru, face drawn. "Yes, maybe not, but if they don't approve, it'll be really horrible being there all the time, having to deal with it. And you won't be allowed to come over anymore, and we've only been together for a bit over a week, and we didn't even see each other for most of it."

"Technically, we could be argued to be together for almost five years, since we've been doing pretty much everything together for that long. Over seven years, if you want to count from that very first encounter at your Go salon. Just because we only had sex for the first time now doesn't mean we don't know each other. Or are you having doubts? Do you want to break up already?" Hikaru's stomach churns painfully at the thought.

"No," Akira says quickly. "No, I want us to be together. It's just that it's all so soon."

Hikaru swallows. "It's not going to get any easier," he says finally, fingers playing with his sleeve. "And you will spare yourself a lot of lying. At least this way if she disapproves, you'll know and you can avoid fucking me in her house."

"Hikaru," Akira hisses, but his heart isn't in it.

"We can do it here instead," Hikaru offers, and moves in closer again, and even though Akira gives a token protest, he lets Hikaru kiss him.

"Not in the living room," he finally puts his foot down when Hikaru's hand is slowly making its way down his pants.

"Fine. Let's move up to my room then. At least I have a proper bed, which should make this a lot more comfortable." He presses another kiss to Akira's lips and pulls him up. "You should write your parents a message that you'll be staying over first, though, you know how your mom worries. And then we'll deal with everything else in the morning."

 

\- - - - -

 

They don't deal with anything in the morning. Hikaru has no idea how he does it, but Akira manages to get out of telling his mom anything by seducing Hikaru into lazy morning sex and then conveniently forgetting that his mother will be out of the house for the rest of the day.

The next day passes in a frenzy because Hikaru is invited to a Go tournament in Korea via email from Suyeoung so he has a few days to get his preparations in order and in between classes and a few Go games and pulling Akira into public restrooms to defile him now that he's oficially allowed, they don't get around to coming clean to Akira's parents.

In the end, it's Hikaru's mother sets things into motions by calling Akira's house. It just happens to be the morning after the day on which Hikaru's returned from Korea. Akira picked him up from the airport and that led to Hikaru following Akira home, tackling him onto the floor in his room and kissing the life out of him before carefully taking off his clothes and making him gasp with the need to come. Rinse and repeat a few times, and Hikaru spent the night in that room, coming down from the best sort of afterglow. He has the strange feeling his mother's phone call is a subtle revenge for not spending a few minutes at home before taking off to get laid.

By the time they manage to make their way downstairs after a long, joint shower, it's almost midday, and Akira's mother is sitting in the living room drinking tea while his father sits opposite a Go board, carefully placing stones, reading from a Go magazine. Akira grips Hikaru's arm so hard at the sight, Hikaru has a feeling he'll have finger-shaped bruises.

"It's okay," Hikaru whispers. "If you really don't want to." Akira's grip loosens a little at that.

"You're up late again," Akira's mother notes when they shuffle into the living room. She sounds amused, and a little baffled.

"Shindou-kun," Touya-san nods at him in greeting. "Akira." He puts down the stone he was holding and tilts his head. "I thought you had a teaching seminar this morning?"

Akira flushes under his father's probing gaze. "I got a call that it was cancelled for today."

"Is everything all right?" Touya-san asks. He doesn't look suspicious, just lightly concerned. "You seem unwell."

"I'm fine," Akira replies. "Hikaru and I are going to have some lunch if that's all right?"

"It's fine," Akira's mom smiles at them. "But don't be too late, we have a dinner invitation later. Actually, it's the strangest thing, Shindou-kun, your mother called me this morning and invited us for dinner. I was quite surprised, we've only met those two times at your games, I didn't expect - I wonder what the occasion is?"

Hikaru steals a glance at Akira, who has paled considerably.

"Look, mother, there's..." Akira starts, and breaks off looking quite helpless when he has no idea how to continue.

Hikaru takes a deep breath. "I think my mother might want to get to know you better now," he says. "Since Akira and I are dating."

And sure, maybe he shouldn't have said it, let Akira do it. But it's out now, and at least he hasn't said 'fucking'. That would have gone over very well for sure. In any case, Akira's mother looks quite stunned. Touya-san looks... serene. Hikaru doesn't doubt that this comes as a surprise to a Go master not at all.

Akira next to him shifts, and Hikaru steps closer to him, touching the small of his back with his hand before dropping it again when Akira stiffens, face hardening.

"That's - I don't know what to say," Akira's mother finally says, which, Hikaru admits, is better than her telling Akira to get out of her house. Not by much, but yeah. They probably shouldn't be expecting congratulations. She's looking helplessly at her husband, who has caught Akira's gaze, holding it steadily. There seems to be some silent conversation going on there, because after a few seconds, Akira relaxes a fraction - it's there in the set of his shoulders - and doesn't stiffen even when Hikaru shifts their elbows together.

"You don't have to say anything," Akira says softly. "I just wanted you both to know. If you don't want to go to dinner tonight, I'm sure Hikaru and his family will understand."

"Don't be silly," his mother tells him. "This - it's not what I expected, but that doesn't mean we won't go. I already agreed that we would be there."

Akira nods.

"You really should have told me, though. All those dinners I sent you on. And I'm sure you're aware that under those circumstances, Shindou-kun sleeping in your room is not acceptable -"

"We've only been dating for a few weeks -"

"- all the more reason you should have told me right away. In any case, I still have to prepare some dishes to take to dinner tonight." She stands up and smiles stiffly at them both, not meeting Hikaru's eyes, before she hurries out into the kitchen. Hikaru spots that her hands are shaking against her stomach, and tries hard not to project too much into it.

A click of a stone against a Go board calls his attention back to Touya-san who's no longer looking at Akira.

"I'm sorry," Akira says into the silence.

"It's all right," his father replies, a corner of his mouth turning upwards in a half-smile. "I think your mother is just a little shocked. She was expecting you to bring home a girl, sooner or later."

"You - you didn't?"

Akira's father looks up and at him, eyebrows rised. "No," he simply says.

Hikaru is, even after all these years, still in awe of this man, and so much more so now that he sees how Touya-san can tell all he needs to say with a single word, a single look from Akira to Hikaru. Because when Akira was twelve years old, he started to really _play_ Go, and he started to talk and think and dream of nothing but this strange boy he'd seen in the Go salon once. It's a bigger tell than he ever gets over the Go board, that's for sure.

"She'll be fine very soon, you'll see," Touya-san adds, and that, apparently is that. He turns back to his board, and they're dismissed.

 

\- - - - -

 

Outside the house, Akira sits down on the steps overlooking the garden, and breathes deeply, eyes closed. Hikaru sits down next to him, puts his arm around his back and presses his nose into his neck, waiting it out. He knows what this feels like at least, the mix of anxiety, that horrible feeling of something drilling into your chest, and stark relief that it's over, no matter what happens now.

After what feels like an hour, Akira licks his lips and turns to him, their noses so close they're almost touching, their eyes inches apart. He's warm, color back in his face. "Thanks," he whispers. "For being here with me for that."

Hikaru nods. Then he grins. "Want to scandalize your mother?"

"No."

"Just a little bit?"

"No."

"But -"

"No.

"All right. But you said lunch was happening, right?"

"Yeah. Lunch. I don't think I can eat anything."

"So, ramen."

Akira snorts. "All right. Have your ramen."

Hikaru punches the air and stands up, giving Akira a hand. Akira ducks his head and keeps their fingers twined even after he's standing. Hikaru considers this a victory and doesn't mention it at all.

"In any case, my mother will get your mother her Gravitation manga and it'll be fine, you see."

It's not quite what happens, but it _is_ fine, which is what matters.

"How come you're so fine with all this?" Akira asks him that evening when they've gone up to Hikaru's room, over the Go board. He's taking forever placing a stone, thinking, distracted. Hikaru can't exactly blame him, but it would be nice if he just played.

"Hm?" he asks.

"You seem so - unfazed. Like it's not a big deal."

Hikaru mulls this over for a little while before he shrugs. "Heian era ghosts," he says, like it explains everything, and he ignores Akira's puzzled expression in favor of wondering how Sai would have reacted to all of this. Probably with a girlish scream whenever Hikaru as much as made an attempt to do more than chastely kiss Akira's cheek.

"You're crazy," Akira tells him.

"Crazy enough to have sex with you while our respective parents are sitting downstairs in the living room, possibly wondering what we're getting up to?" Hikaru smirks.

"No."

Hikaru moves the board to the side with his foot, predatory look on his face.

"Hikaru, no. No, get off me, no, stop it," and then there are giggles and laughter and tickling and moans and Hikaru kissing Akira deeply, hotly, lovingly, like he's wanted to forever, and will want to, as long as he can imagine.

 

\- - - - -  
End.


End file.
